


if i can dream it, i can have it.

by tolvsmol



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Artist!Ronan, Christmas, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:09:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolvsmol/pseuds/tolvsmol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He comes in twice a week - on Mondays and Thursdays; today is Thursday. Wearing black from head to toe, he looks like death incarnate. The tattoo that peaks out from under his shirt does nothing to make him look less intimidating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if i can dream it, i can have it.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i have no idea what happened to this. it's not edited so i hope there aren't too many errors.

"Have a great day!"

Smiling at every single customer who walks through that door is a lot of work, especially since Adam went to bed at approximately two last night and then had to wake up at six to get here. Then three hours after that, he had to go to class. At this moment, he wants nothing more than to sleep. But sleep won't be possible until much, much later because he still has another half an hour of work.

The door chimes once again and he puts on his customer smile, only to find out it's Mr. Grump. He comes in twice a week - on Mondays and Thursdays; today is Thursday. Wearing black from head to toe, he looks like death incarnate. The tattoo that peaks out from under his shirt does nothing to make him look less intimidating. Why he likes this shop is beyond Adam.

"Hi, what would you like today?" There's just a smidge of annoyance in Adam's voice, barely detectable, because Mr. Grump always orders something different. Adam finds that particularly frustrating. With most of the usuals, he knows what they get. For instance, the one of the two girls who come in on Wednesdays gets black coffee without sugar and the other always gets iced tea; the bubbly old man always gets chamomile tea.

Mr. Grump, however, has something different everyday, and Adam suspects it's partly because he knows it irks Adam. "One Caffé Mocha with two sugars," he responds with such a monotonous voice Adam is actually a little impressed.

"Coming right up." He passes the order to Kyle, who looks like he's thrilled to be here. "Your total will be three ninety-nine."

Mr. Grump passes Adam a five dollar bill and as Adam takes out the change from the register, Mr. Grump says, "Keep the change," as though a dollar is worth nothing. He turns away from the counter and walks to one of the tables in the corner of the shop. He always does this. They've never talked when he isn't ordering his drink, but every time he's here, Adam sees him sit in the corner with a notebook open on the table. His hands move expertly on the pages and sometimes Adam is kind of desperate to see what he draws, but the sight of him is too intimidating to even think about asking.

Kyle puts Mr. Grump's coffee in front of Adam and Adam steps away from the register to give it to him. Thursdays are always slow at this time, so the shop is almost empty, besides Mr. Grump, a lady who looks kind of like Adam's mom, and a couple he's never seen before. Adam puts the coffee on the table, clears his throat (because he's got his headphones on), and says, "Enjoy your drink."

Adam has turned around and already taken a step away when he hears, "Adam, wait," and his heart basically plummets to his stomach and his stomach is in his throat, he doesn't know why. "I want a blueberry muffin, too," Mr. Grump says when Adam turns to face him, his own face burning.

"How do you know my name?" is what comes out of Adam's mouth.

Mr. Grump nods at his chest. "Your name tag, dumbass. I'd like my muffin today, by the way." He slaps another five dollar bill on the table.

With his face burning bright with embarrassment, Adam picks up the money and goes back to get his damn muffin. "Parrish, if you keep blushing like that, our attractive Ron Swanson over there might start thinking you're into him," his coworker says to him under his breath, even though there's no one else around to hear him.

"Shut the fuck up, Kyle."

The thing is, Mr. Grump could be attractive. If he smiled a little. It's been almost two months and Adam has yet to see him smile even once. In fact, Adam has yet to seem him with a facial expression besides a perpetual scowl. He can't even imagine what he would look like if he smiled. He definitely doesn't smile with teeth. Does he smile just with his mouth, or do his eyes also light up? Adam tries to picture what that'd look like and fail.

"Here's your muffin." Adam places it next to his coffee, along with the change. Mr. Grump doesn't look up, doesn't even acknowledge that Adam said anything. Well. He's more or less used to it by now. Leaving him at the table, Adam goes back to the register. The lady who looked like his mom is gone, leaving Mr. Grump and the couple sitting on opposite sides of the room. He stands at the register like he does every day and let's his mind wander back to many assignments he has to work on. The critique on Alzheimer's is almost completed; the research paper for English will have to wait until the critique is done. The blueprint for engineering needs a _lot_ more work; he needs to schedule a few hours with the rest of the group if he wants to get it done on time and get a decent grade.

The door chimes with another customer and his artificial smile slips back into place. This time, however, he doesn't need it. This guy never orders anything. He comes in occasionally, only to sit across from Mr. Grump. They always talk in hushed voices, or maybe they seem hushed to Adam because he's so far away from them. They’re quite different, the two of them. Mr. Grump is all dark and aloof, while his friend radiates light and friendliness. Even their posture is completely opposite of each other; Mr. Grump shuts the world away, but his friend seems to invite everyone to him.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes later, Mr. Grump's friend gets up from the table and makes his way towards the counter and Adam is a little, no, very surprised, but smiles, nonetheless. He reminds Adam a little bit of a young Gatsby. "Hi, how can I help you today?"

He smiles an open smile at Adam and he can practically see some kind of light ooze out of the guy. "Hello. Would you happen to have any kind of mint tea?"

"Yes, we do have Moroccan mint tea." Adam doesn't know why.

"One cup of that would be fantastic. It's hard to convince Ronan otherwise once he makes up his mind."

Ronan. That's his name. Adam doesn't know why he was expecting something like Jett or Tyson. Ronan fits him. Now that be knows the name, everything about Mr. Grump screams Ronan.

Adam asks Ronan's friend for four dollars and fifty cents and he pays with a debit card. Adam almost has to hold on to the counter to stay upright. What is it with all the rich people? They're coming into a tea shop, knowing full well that pretty much nothing costs more than five dollars. Doesn't it make sense to keep some five dollar bills with them? Maybe a ten at most. Adam envies the ease with which Ronan's friend swipes his card, but completes the transaction with a pleasant smile and hands him the receipt. Unlike Ronan, he remembers his manners.

When Adam brings the tea to the table, Ronan's face scrunches up in disgust or disbelief, Adam doesn't know which, and without looking away from the cup, he says, "What the fuck is that?" He doesn't specify if the question is for Adam or his friend.

"It's Moroccan mint tea," his friend says. "And it's actually healthy for you."

"Please, Gansey," Ronan snorts, and it's a really lovely sound. "Life's too short for your shitty bean juice, I actually value my taste buds."

"Mints are leaves, Ronan," his friend, Gansey, points out. Ronan huffs in response. Adam doesn't know why he's still standing here.

"Enjoy your evening," he tells them and goes back, once more, to the register.

A few more people come in, none of them as exciting as Ronan. They're all usuals, so Adam knows what they get and there's nothing sinister about any of them. Ronan, on the other hand, looks like he's best friends with death, even though he's sitting across from Gansey. When everyone leaves, Kyle cleans up the kitchen and Adam takes care of the tables. It's not messy, really, just a bit of random wrappers and straws here and there. When he gets to Ronan and Gansey's table, there's a folded piece of paper on the floor under the table. He picks it up and unfolds it to find it littered with sketches.

They're all done in pencil and they all seem rushed. There are a few of a bird, all of them black. There's one of a pirate sitting on a motorcycle with a pirate parrot on his shoulder. And then there's many, many sketches of a person. Some are eyes, some are hands. The freckles on the bridge of the nose and the small scars on the hands seem strangely familiar, but Adam can't place them. The hands are drawn so, so many times in so many ways. Some of the sketches are really detailed and some are unfinished. Both sides of the paper are covered with drawings and Adam can't believe Ronan was careless enough to drop this.

For one fleeting second, he thinks about keeping the paper and not returning it.

But the thought is dismissed before it's even properly formed. He pockets the paper carefully and makes a mental note to hand it back to Ronan on Monday when Adam sees him next.

Once the shop is all cleaned up, Kyle and Adam leave. Kyle locks it up every day and sometimes they walk out together, but today Adam has to go to the library, so Kyle goes back to campus and Adam goes his way. It's not freezing, but walking twenty minutes in thirty-six degree weather makes his fingers blue and numb. By the time he makes it to the library, he can't feel his fingers or toes. It's days like these when Adam wishes he had more money - enough money to buy a warmer jacket and, maybe, a pair of gloves. But even with his two jobs, he can barely keep his stomach satisfied with three meals a day. It was a miracle when he got the letter in the mail that changed everything: a four year scholarship that took care of his tuition and paid more than half the cost of living on campus. Still, he has to work odd hours to make sure he has the money he does need to pay.

People always say money isn't everything, that money can't buy you happiness. Adam Parrish would beg to differ. If his family had money, they probably wouldn't have parted ways with Adam in the unfortunate way that they did. If he had money, Adam wouldn't have to work more hours than he sleeps. If had money, he could spend those hours studying, instead of serving people coffee or changing their tires. If he had money, he would eat all three meals every day and go to bed with a full stomach. If he had money, he would make sure he was warm enough in this weather. If he had money, Adam Parrish would be happier because happiness isn't a tangible thing, but rather comes with the little things in life.

At the library, Adam feels like he's being watched. It's a crowded night, seeing as the semester is coming to a close at an alarming rate, so the library is packed with students, but Adam feels like someone is watching him. He can feel eyes on him like any other day, people look around all the time, but this time it's different. It's a weird feeling that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He glanced around the library a few times to see if anyone was looking, but he didn't find any lingering eyes on him. Still, that didn't make the uneasy feeling go away and Adam was extremely distracted while he finished his critique.

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, Ronan came to Carlo's Coffee religiously, but changed his timing slightly. He used to come half an hour before closing time, but now he's started to come by right before Adam's twenty minute break. He comes in with just enough time to place his order before one of Adam's coworkers takes over. In these last few days, Adam has also collected more of Ronan's drawings. He couldn't bring himself to give the first one back immediately on Monday and Ronan forgot another small paper. Well, Adam first thought he forgot, but when it happened four times, he figured Ronan leaves them behind intentionally. He _wants_ Adam to find them. So Adam hasn't given any of them back yet. He will, he tells himself, but not yet. Not until he knows why Ronan leaves them in the first place.

The drawings all have one thing in common: they're all of the same person. Most of them are sketches of hands, which all look like they belong to one person, even though they're drawn in different angles. The attention to detail is impressive; the small scars and callouses aren't forgotten or overlooked. All the fingers are long and slender and it seems like Ronan worships this person's hands for reasons unknown to Adam. But that's not all. There's sketches of a mouth too - sometimes scowling, sometimes smiling. Always the same person. Adam wouldn't think much of it, if all the sketches didn't remind him of himself. But Ronan couldn't possibly be drawing Adam. Ronan doesn't know Adam that well.

Today, Adam wants to return the drawings. He doesn't _want_ to, but he knows they're not his to keep, not until Ronan personally gives them to him. So he decides to wait for Ronan to be finish his drink and then go over. Ronan has been strange lately. Well, he and strange are probably best friends, but he's been more odd than usual. When he thinks Adam isn't paying attention, his eyes linger on Adam and, as soon as Adam looks back, his gaze falls on something else. Adam isn't one to shy away from making a move or slow at figuring out if someone is interested, but Ronan is a mystery. At times it seems like he might like Adam, or at the very least, think he's interesting, but at other times, it's almost like Adam doesn't even exist in Ronan's world.

Adam is now on his short break, sitting on a table and drinking from his own small cup of coffee. Ronan isn't drinking anymore; he hasn't touched his cup in almost five minutes and Adam is certain he's done with the beverage. Adam gets up from his spot and his heart is beating so fast it's honestly ridiculous. Ronan shouldn't make him nervous. He's just giving back the drawings. But the closer he gets to Ronan's table, the faster his heart beats and Adam can _feel_ his face getting and he can almost see how red his face is. He knocks his fist against the table gently and Ronan looks up from his sketchbook, his eyebrows lifting just slightly in question, and he pushes back his headphones with one hand.

Adam holds out his hand to him. "I think you've been forgetting your drawings here." Ronan probably can't tell that Adam's voice isn't really Adam's voice right now. Usually Adam sounds confident - quiet, but confident. Steady.  Right now he sounds like a preteen girl meeting her celebrity crush.

Ronan doesn't take the pieces of papers Adam is holding out. He shuts the book on the table and makes no attempt to look at what's in Adam's hands. "They're not mine," he says and leans back. Crosses his arms across his chest. He's wearing a navy blue shirt and his blue eyes look electrifying.

Adam's face flushes even more and his heart almost gives out. "I've been finding them in this spot everyday you're here. I think they belong to you."

"They could belong to anyone. They're not mine." Ronan looks like he doesn't give a damn and Adam gives so many damns in this moment. He wants Ronan to admit he drew those things and he wants Ronan to take them back now. He doesn't know why. When Adam doesn't back away, Ronan says, "Keep 'em or burn 'em, they're yours to deal with. I don't give a shit. I'm out." Then he readjusts his headphones, places a tip on the table, picks up his sketchbook and leaves.

Adam stands there with the drawings stuffed in his fist and his heart in his throat, feeling somehow insulted.

Ronan doesn't show up next Monday or Thursday. Adam tells himself he doesn't care.

When Ronan comes back, it's gotten colder and he's stopped leaving anything for Adam. Adam misses the drawings, if he's honest with himself. He knows they meant something and, whatever it was, now it's gone. Maybe it's his own fault. Maybe he just shouldn't have mentioned them at all. Today when Ronan came, he ordered a black coffee with four and a half sugars. After he leaves, Adam finds a twenty dollar tip waiting for him, plus a small piece of paper with one word scribbled on it. _Sorry._

Adam pockets the money, along with the message. What Ronan is sorry for, Adam doesn't understand. But the money. Adam can't believe Ronan thinks he can fix this with money. Adam doesn't need his money. Well, that's not entirely true, because Adam needs all the money he can get, but he's not going to take Ronan's charity. There's no reason for Ronan to give him twenty dollars. Two or three dollars would have been fine, that was normal. If Ronan expects twenty dollars to make Adam forget how awful he made him feel, he's got another thing coming.

When Ronan sees Adam approaching, he swiftly gets up from the table with remarkable speed and hurries out of the shop. Adam follows after him. "Hey! Listen to me!" Ronan continues walking and Adam hooks his fingers around his jacket sleeve. "I'm talking to you."

Ronan turns around and meets Adam's gaze with a challenge in his eyes. "What do you want?"

"Not your money," Adam responds.

"Sure, you don't."

"I. Don't. Need. Your. Money."

"Of course not. Why would you?" Ronan looks him up and down and Adam wants to punch him in the face. Adam knows he looks like a ragged doll, with his hair too long and his jacket missing (because he's in his uniform still). Ronan, on the other hand, is wearing a dark blue shirt underneath a black leather jacket. While Adam's shoes are scruffy, old Vans, Ronan is wearing black boots that don't look worn out. He's even wearing fingerless gloves, while Adam's hands are getting numb from the cold with each passing second.

Of course, Adam doesn't need the money. Why would he?

"Fuck you and your money," Adam finally says. "Go to hell."

"Working on it," Ronan says.

The next time Ronan comes, Adam doesn't take his order. He makes Kyle do it. And the next time he makes the other barista, Krystal, do it. Both days, they bring him a slip of paper and a cash. When Kyle did it, he had thirty dollars with a note that said, _for Adam._ Today Krystal hands him forty dollars with a note that says, _for Adam._ He gave Kyle and Krystal a five dollar tip. Adam wants to kill Ronan.

A small, very small, part of him is overwhelmed that someone cares - that someone cares enough to notice and cares enough to do something about it. But the other part, the one that dominates everything else, is beyond angry. Money means nothing to Ronan. It doesn't mean anything to Adam, either, except that it means everything to him. But Ronan, though, doesn't care. Ronan probably never has to worry about money. Adam can't imagine Ronan worrying about anything, he seems to have just about everything going for him and now he's taunting Adam with his excessive wealth Adam hates him.

When it's time to close, Adam tells Kyle and Krystal that he'll do it. He takes the keys from Kyle and, once they leave, Adam sits in the coffee shop for hours. He doesn't have any more assignments that desperately need work. He doesn't want to see his roommate, who's probably packing to go home for Christmas. Today is December 21. Adam isn't going home. At times like these , he feels a little like Harry Potter. But Harry Potter had friends. Adam doesn't. He sits in the coffee shop until it's too late and then he puts on his pathetic jacket and makes sure everything is the way it's supposed to be before locking the shop.

On the way back to his room, Adam runs into Kavinsky. Joseph Kavinsky is a Grade A asshole who happens to a have a particular dislike for Adam; the feeling is absolutely mutual. As much as Kavinsky might hate him, Adam hates him more, he's certain of it. Tonight it's dark and it's cold and there's snow on the ground and Kavinsky makes a comment about Adam's clothes and Adam loses it. First Ronan and now this dick. Then he mentions Adam's father and fear shakes Adam for one, paralyzingly moment and then Adam throws the first punch. And then and then and then they're just a mess of fists and punches and kicks and scrapes and Adam is suddenly being pulled away with someone's arms secured around him and he's thrashing to get away and have one more swing at Kavinsky, but whoever is holding him has a firm grip.

Kavinsky is kneeling on the ground with blood dripping from his nose, his breath coming out in breathless gasps. For one second, Adam considers helping him up. And then that second is over. Adam turns away and finds himself staring into Ronan's eyes.

"We need to get away from here," Ronan says and starts to drag Adam away. Adam stays put.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." He remembers the time and what's just happened. "Why are you here?"

Something passes between Ronan's eyes. "I was waiting for you to get out of the shop. You didn't leave at the normal time."

Adam almost stops breathing. "I want you to stay away from me. Stop giving me your money and stop trying to be in my life. Stop coming to the shop. I don't want to see you." Adam doesn't wait to see Ronan's reaction. He shoves his hands in his jacket and walks away. The entire way back, he can't help but feel like he's being followed. He knows who it is, but he doesn't turn around to stop him. When Adam get to his room, his roommate is gone. Adam tries not to care too much. He wasn't expecting much anyway.

Friends are overrated.

* * *

 

On Christmas Eve, Adam cries. He doesn't mean to, it just happens unexpectedly. He's laying in bed, thinking about all the Christmases he's spent with his family, all the good times he had when he was little, all the inconsequential worries of a child. Now he's in his college dorm on Christmas Eve with no one else around to wish him a Merry Christmas. So a few tears slip out as he remembers eating his mom's cookies and opening presents under the tree. This year he has no presents. Adam falls asleep feeling alone.

When he wakes up, it doesn't feel like Christmas. It's quiet and lonely and cold. Adam is so, so cold. He lays in bed for who knows how long until his starving stomach actually starts to pain and then gets up and puts on warmer clothes and heads for the cafeteria. But when he opens the door, he stops short. There, laid on the floor, is a box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper with his name written in big letters. He recognizes the handwriting. Adam picks up the box and steps back into the room and eagerly, but warily, opens the present. Inside is a jacket thicker than any Adam has ever owned, plus a few pairs of socks and gloves and a beanie. There's a card, too, that simply says, _Merry Christmas. Don't be mad about these_. And at the bottom of it all are tons and tons of pages ripped out of a sketchbook.

Adam is overcome with emotion. He hasn't had a proper Christmas present in a long while. Ronan didn't have to do this. Adam doesn't know if he's still mad. He definitely still is annoyed by the money thing because he knows Ronan only did that to irk Adam. But this. Adam wants to find Ronan and thank him, regardless of however much of an asshole he's been. Adam tries on the new jacket and he could melt because of how comfortable it is. He puts on the beanie and, instead of going to get food, he finds leftovers and eats those. He stays in his room all day, thinking of ways to thank Ronan. He knows he can't buy anything. What do you buy someone who's already got everything? Adam doesn't know. He can't buy anything for Ronan. All he can do is say thanks with his words. But he does know if that'll be enough.

Around midday, there's a knock on Adam's door and he's instantly alert. No one should be coming to see Adam. No one should be coming here at all. Adam's roommate isn't supposed to return until after the New Years. But, nonetheless, Adam gets up and goes to open the door. This time it isn't a present from Ronan. It's Ronan himself. Holding a box of pizza in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other. Wearing only a shirt and jeans.

"Merry Christmas," Ronan says with the ghost of a potential smile.

Adam thinks "Merry Christmas," but says, "Where's your jacket?"

Ronan smirks a little. "See how it feels?" And Adam thinks he knows what that means, but he really doesn't know. He doesn't ask.

"Why're you here?" Adam asks.

"I brought you pizza, asshole. Can I come in?" He invites himself in. Adam lets him. He sits on Adam's bed, where his drawings are strewn around and the beanie rests on the pillow. Adam quickly picks it all up and shoves it to one side. Ronan opens the pizza box and the aroma that reaches Adam almost instantaneously almost knocks him out. It smells so _good_. Adam could drown in it. Ronan holds the box out to Adam and Adam only hesitates for a second. He looks Ronan in the eyes when he says "Thanks," and makes sure Ronan knows he doesn't just mean for the pizza. They eat in silence after that, but it's okay. Adam doesn't know what he'd say anyway. When they're done, Adam and Ronan throw out the trash and then Adam grabs the drawings and asks Ronan, "Why did you say these aren't yours? Why would you lie?"

Ronan shakes his head. "I don't lie. They _aren't_ mine. I made them for you."

And now Adam _knows_ it's his hands and his smile and his eyes Ronan has been drawing for the last few months. When he thought Adam wasn't looking, Ronan was looking at Adam because he was _drawing_ him. He was sketching the curve of Adam's lips or the scar on his left hand or the crease under his eye and suddenly Adam's heart has turned into a hummingbird and Ronan still looks like a raven.

"Why?" Adam asks. "Why do you draw it?"

"Because if I draw it,then maybe I can perfect it," Ronan says. "And then maybe I can dream it. And if I can dream it, I can have it. It can be mine."

Adam thinks he knows what Ronan is talking about, but he doesn't think he knows at all. He's reading too much into everything. He doesn't even understand what Ronan is saying. But he doesn't say anything. And Ronan doesn't say anything. Adam wants to tell him that he doesn't have a present for him, that he doesn't have the money to buy anything, but he doesn't know how to say that. He knows Ronan knows, but he still feels like he should say something.

"Thanks for the stuff," Adam says lamely. Ronan shrugs. "I didn't get anything for you."

Ronan shrugs again. "I didn't expect you to." And that stings because, wow, it _is_ that obvious. Ronan must see the look on Adam's face because he says, "I didn't meant it like that, I swear." Then he looks around the room, eyes darting everywhere. "Get a paper and pencil." Adam finds one and gives it to Ronan.

Ronan sits them for at least a minute without doing anything. Then he picks up Adam's hand from his lap and puts it on the bed while flattening his palm. "Why?" Adam asks.

"You have nice hands," Ronan says. And for the next hour he draws Adam's hands and Adam can't help but think of his comment about wanting to dream Adam. He never said he wants to dream _Adam_ , but what other _it_ could he have possibly been talking about? It just doesn't make sense.

When it's them for Ronan to leave and go see his brothers, he hesitates in the doorway. Adam could see he was stalling just making it to the door and now they're standing there looking at each other. Adam still doesn't feel like he usually does around people he likes, but he feels more like himself. Ronan keeps looking at Adam's face and then at the floor. Adam thinks he knows what they both want, he hoped so desperately they both want the same thing, so he steps closer to Ronan, very cautiously. Ronan doesn't back away. They're pretty much the same height, Adam is just a tiny bit taller, but it suddenly makes Ronan look adorably small. When Ronan doesn't look repulsed, Adam leans in for a kiss and the gentleness that Ronan responds with surprises him. He was expecting Ronan to be rough and rushed, but Ronan simply puts his hands on Adam's waist and pulls him just a little closer to himself, their chests flush against one another.

Then it's over and Adam watches Ronan walk away from his room. He doesn't feel alone, even though he is. He's wearing the jacket Ronan got for him and he's got his beanie on. Adam hadn't asked for anything this Christmas. He didn't think he had anyone left to ask for anything. But what he got is better than anything he could've asked for.

**Author's Note:**

> i made adam taller accidentally oops ignore that


End file.
